


Dark ego

by Oducchan



Category: Dragon Ball
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-11
Updated: 2014-02-11
Packaged: 2018-01-12 00:57:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 429
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1179995
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Oducchan/pseuds/Oducchan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It’s strange, he thinks, it’s a strange feeling that it’s filling his heart, and strange are these thougts that he never had before and that now are rampaging in his mind.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dark ego

**Author's Note:**

> It's my first story written in english (I'm italian) so I'm very, very sorry if there are some errors. Please, feel free to correct me!

** Dark _ego_ **

 

 

 

-Let me go!- he barks, cheeks red as the reddest tomato, the worst frown he has ever seen on his face, and body twisting like a fish –Let me go, you idiot!- he shouts, and Goku can feel how his _ki_ is increasing within his body, little spark of electricity running down his arms and chest –a little shade of gold that dance in his hair and slivers of green blooming in the deep of his eyes- but for an unknow reason, he can’t resolve himself to let him go, to release his hands and let him get up to shout even louder at him.

It’s strange, he thinks, it’s a strange feeling that it’s filling his heart, and strange are these thougts that he never had before and that now are rampaging in his mind. There is this dark and akward _desire_ that is rising from the deep of his body, and now it’s twirling in his belly like a growling monster, like he never wanted anything but this exact moment, this prevarication over _this_ man, his body, his heat. He wants to reduce him as a mess, a concentrate of sensations and vibrations and emotions and _needs,_ desperate for something he shouldn’t reach, gasping and panting beside his ears, hot and sweating more thanmhe does during a mere training.

He wants Vegeta so badly that he can barely think, so he doesn’t do it, he acts following that dark and slimy instinct which tells him to not let him go, to stay and play with him, to discover what he could tast like.

Vegeta shouts again –his voice tore and arse- but he doesn’t really listen, he undo the band of his pants and lower them to his knees, he duck his head between his legs, and the next thing he’saware it’s the low moan that Vegeta is exhaling through his teeth, and the arch of his back and the tension building up in his muscles, and he’s sure, it’s the most wonderful sight he ever had. 

And then an hand –a strong hand, callous and covered in little bruises he can feel against his scalp-came through his hairs, and in that grasp that feels like he’s trying to find an anchor for not let himself drowning, there, _there_ , it lays the true perfection, all he ws searching for, and his mouth now it’s hot, and wet, and creamy, and when he dares to open his eyes again Vegeta is panting, and darting to him.

He’s probably dead again , but death never tasted better.


End file.
